It was all there for Wednesday's Season 10 premiere -- judges, nervous contestants, the tears and the fears and the hovering host Ryan Seacrest and that theme song that is by now more recognizable than any of the hits charted by an American Idol victor. And it is good, in the way that the returning Idol is year after year, rather like the annual Thanksgiving dinner appearance of your favourite tipsy aunt, all familiar and entertaining and amusing.

But Idol has brought something different to the table this year, changes designed to up its popularity, to improve its slightly flagging ratings and re-engage viewers. The changes include a so-called "kinder, gentler" approach at the judging table (in other words, no more mean Simon Cowellisms, because Cowell's gone) from new judges Jennifer Lopez and Steven Tyler (who replaced Ellen DeGeneres and Kara DioGuardi from last season).

Instead of a Top 24 after the 125,000 auditions, there will be a Top 20 and then a Top 10 who will be revealed on March 3, chosen in a Las Vegas elimination round involving the Cirque du Soleil Beatles-fest Love and then a viewer-voting elimination back in Hollywood.

There's also a new mentor in town (as opposed to the one-off celebrity mentors in previous seasons) and it's expected that Jimmy Lovine, who is the head of Interscope Records and boss of artists like Lady Gaga, Eminem, 50 Cent and Black Eyed Peas, will ensure that the most promising singers likely to be signed by his label will receive the best that the industry's star-making machinery has to give.

Oh, and contestants, who in past years have been forced to sing out of their comfort zone -- a rocker doing disco, for instance -- will this season be spared that ignominy and be allowed to choose songs within their genre as they work through the Idol system. It's clear with the season premiere that Idol has indeed changed its tune.

Tyler brings a different kind of personality to the judging panel: the hard-core superstar rocker who's spent almost half a century in the music industry trenches, 40 of that as the flamboyant frontman for Aerosmith, not only has the chops but the hands-on experience.

Clearly on tap to be the panel's edgy one, Tyler is funny and refreshing and says he accepted the AI job because: "I have years of musicianship ... It's not just about singing, it's about character and what it takes to be on the road and be in the storm."

Lopez, too, is an industry veteran and while she's no Paula Abdul, whose odd charm brought a certain humanity to the panel and helped offset Cowell's honest irascibility, she lends an A-list cachet to the show. And if there's a soft touch this year, you can bet it will be her.

On Wednesday's two-hour kickoff, the two newbies -- joined by music producer Randy Jackson, who is the show's sole survivor (along with Seacrest) since it first hit the American consciousness and the airwaves in 2002 -- were on point, if after a rather glitzy over-the-top intro. Dreammakers? Well, okay. Tyler, natch, hit the stage all gothed out, potty-mouthed and full of road-weary swagger, screaming a few notes and, maybe because dude looks like a lady -- an old lady -- says that he's hoping to discover another Janis Joplin.

Lopez, fresh and sassy and aglow with motherhood, says she's going to be "compassionate" because "I'm not in the business of crushing spirits."

And Jackson, the veteran and perpetual voice of reason, remains as robust and jovial as ever: "Wow, it's a different table, but you know what, it's hot, let's go baby."

The show seems, at first blush, to have repatriated some of its buzz.

Tyler, if he can stop screeching and harness his lasciviousness, has great chemistry with Lopez and the two of them seem to have revitalized Jackson, who's sporting some smoking new specs and is now the big dawg sitting in Cowell's vacated chair. Collectively, they're just more energetic and interesting than last year's panel, though the ghost of Cowell remains, even as he is off plotting to have his upcoming X-Factor, another knockoff British talent search show bearing his fingerprints, unseat Idol from its reality pedestal.

The night's contestants -- fist-pumping Jerseyites who turned out by the thousands to croon for hometown girl Lopez -- were the usual Idol mix of awful and terrific, of bravado and bashful, of sweat pants and hooker heels, of trained pipes and amateur hour.

Lopez, as advertised and expected, hasn't quite got the hang of saying no, of letting the unimpressive down easy, and makes a fuss every time she has to ( "Why did I sign up for this?!"), though one suspects that as time passes, she'll toughen up. And she needs to, because some of those contestants are truly awful, and someone needs to tell them that. Like Chris, who couldn't sing My Way and, thankfully, didn't make it through, even though he was wearing a cool plaid shirt and straw hat. "Dawg, you should be howling," Tyler hollered at Jackson when Chris was done. And like 16-year-old Victoria, one of the 51 who did get the golden ticket Wednesday, not because she can sing but apparently because she was wearing a cute skirt and, according to Jackson, showed "the most personality of anyone ever on American Idol."

But that's the thing about Idol. It works because it's about discovery, about the luck of the draw, about people who are stars and don't know it and people who aren't stars and think they are. It's about the unexpected, about unknown talents like Carrie Underwood and Jennifer Hudson and Kelly Clarkson winning the entertainment industry's most coveted lottery.

It works because the viewers get a say in the outcome, and because America (Taylor Hicks!) doesn't always get it right. Wednesday's premiere pulled in 26 million viewers, down from nearly 30 million last year, respectable by any measure. And trackers report the numbers went up as the show went on.

So cue the cheers and the tears, and the singing waitress and Yoji Pop and the night's final contestant -- charming and talented Bronx high-schooler Travis Orlando -- because it's a party in the U.S.A. And it looks like American Idol might just have its mojo back.